


to boldly go

by openended



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Exploration, Gen, Mirrors, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openended/pseuds/openended
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delenn decides that it's time to discover her new body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to boldly go

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: human, exploration, new, mirror

It takes her three full weeks to stare at herself in the mirror.

In three weeks, she’s figured out how to deal with hair, how to dress for the shape of her new body, been highly confused by (and then immensely grateful for) the concept of tampons, and read absolutely everything she could get her hands on about the Human female body and how it works.

It’s been a productive twenty-one days; there’s also been such minor issues as presenting herself to the League, convincing the Minbari that she is still Minbari at heart though her physical appearance is a damn good argument to the alternative, learning her way around the new captain, _and_ the day-to-day requirements of an ambassador.

She knows all the new parts and how they work and she’s certainly _seen_ them (because that hasn’t been avoidable and she did this to better _understand_ Humans, not keep her eyes closed while she fumbles with the strange soap in the shower), but never all at once.

She bids Lennier good night after dinner and walks alone back to her quarters, ignoring any stares in her direction. She locks her door with a new password and turns off her BabCom unit; all messages can wait until the morning and she’s put this off long enough.

After lighting a selection of candles, she steps into the bathroom to pry the full-length mirror off of its hooks on the door. She rests it against an empty wall in her bedroom.

With a deep breath, she unhooks her robes and lets them slide from her shoulders to the floor. Human undergarments are strange and she still isn’t used to having fabric that close and tight to her body. She’s found silk and satin to be the most comfortable, but she suspects it will be a long time before she stops feeling the cloth with every movement.

The bra goes first. It’s easier taking it off than getting it on, a simple twist of her arm behind her back and a flick of the catch. The straps fall down her arms and she lets the strange contraption dangle from her fingers for a moment before hanging it over the chair. She gathers up her robes and smooths the wrinkles away before gently draping them next to the bra.

She returns to the mirror and tilts her head. Minbari do not grow breasts until they are reproductively necessary. They’re strange, firm yet soft, and she drags her fingertips over the smooth skin. Her breath catches in her throat when her finger grazes a nipple. She does it again, experimentally, and feels the bud tighten. Something between her legs begins to ache. It’s not a bad ache, not one associated with pain, but one _desiring_ something, something more.

Her hands skim down her stomach, still flat but now pale white without even a hint of the cerulean blue markings that used to swirl across her skin. She turns, trying to see her back in the mirror over her shoulder. She can’t hold the position long, just enough to confirm that her spine, at least, still bears the markings. 

Her hips curve and flare out now and she settles her palm in the natural hollow created by hidden bones, fingers resting just above the line of her underwear. She’s fascinated by the smooth, elegant curves, so unlike the straight lines of Minbari physiology. 

As her fingers trace the contours of her body, she begins to feel something build inside of her. A low thrum and quiet heat, radiating from the satin-covered apex between her legs. She recognizes it as a good sensation, pleasant, something she definitely wants more of, and wonders whether this is what Human arousal feels like. Nothing she read in the station’s computerized library, not clinical analyses nor firsthand accounts nor anything labeled _erotica_ , managed to describe the feeling in a way she could accurately imagine.

She makes eye contact with herself in the mirror again and takes note of her parted lips, increased breathing, and a strange flush across her chest. To her, her own arousal doesn’t seem obvious. If she were still fully Minbari, the blue pattern across her stomach would be beginning to darken, a clear signal of her body’s opinion on her actions.

She licks her lips, suddenly dry, and slides the underwear down her legs and gently kicks the fabric aside. She shudders, though she isn’t cold.

Diagrams and pictures and terminology pop into her head, a clinical topography of the newly-uncovered skin, but she pushes them aside. This is about feeling and learning and discovery, not a detached lesson in anatomy.

Her fingers slip between her legs, feeling heat and moisture, and she gasps. The low thrum is no longer low. She struggles to keep her eyes open as her fingers explore new territory, touching, testing, teasing. 

The names come unbidden to her mind, matching each Human characteristic to its corresponding Minbari part as her fingertips discover and memorize her new body. Her thumb brushes across her clitoris and a quiet whimper of pleasure escapes her lips.

There is nothing in Minbari physiology that is even remotely comparable to the Human clitoris.

She touches the tiny nub again, purposely this time. Though her teeth sink into her bottom lip, she can’t fully stifle the low moan in the back of her throat.

She wonders if this isn’t an activity better suited to lying down.


End file.
